


Out of the box

by ArielAquarial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awesome Charlie Bradbury, Charlie Bradbury Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Christmas Decorations, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Nosy Charlie Bradbury, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: Dean can’t complain about his life so far. He spent years beside a great kid with an amazing imagination. He and Ben had been through a lot in the short time he’d acted as his favorite toy, but all good things must come to an end. It was only a matter of time until Dean found himself in the trash, or if he was lucky, a yard sale. What he hadn’t considered was ending up in the attic with only Christmas decorations for company.Or, the one where Dean is an action figure, Cas is a tree topper, and Charlie is an elf with WAY too much time on her hands.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Out of the box

The day of Ben’s ninth birthday was a perfect day for a party. Music blasted from the radio while children played a game of tag, shrieking and being mostly ignored by their parents. Lisa’s boyfriend manned the grill, flipping burgers and charring cheap hotdogs while the other men hovered around him, beers in hand. Lisa held court with the other moms and sipped strong margaritas while they gossiped about work and their relationships. A table was set up near the back door, piled high with brightly wrapped presents. One held a set of educational books, another a skateboard and protective gear. In one bag, hidden under blue and white tissue paper, sat Dean.

He waited patiently to meet Ben, his plastic ears focused on the child's voice and listening to his excitement as he unwrapped his gifts. Suddenly, the bag shook and he was lifted. Sticky hands pushed the tissue aside and grasped his box, lifting him into the light. A boy was staring back at him in excitement, with wide brown eyes and short-cropped hair. He was immediately freed from his plastic prison and then passed along to a few other children to be examined, for his arms to be bent one way, then the other. The second he was back in Ben’s sugar-sticky hands, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was home. Ben pressed Dean into his chest, hugging him tightly as he thanked his mom for the present.

Later that night, as Dean lay on the pillow next to Ben, he watched the child sleep. Brown hair was pressed flat by the pillow, a spot of drool was steadily growing on his Power Ranger pillowcase, and already, he loved the kid.

They had many adventures together. He and Ben had saved princesses from dragons, planned successful missions to Mars, hunted vampires, and even saved entire cities from alien invasions. Hell, they’d saved the world more times than he could count. Dean was shoved into Ben’s backpack and taken to school, dragged on vacation, taken to the beach only to return with his joints stiff with hidden sand, and buckled into the seat next to him as his mother drove them to the grocery store. They were inseparable.

He’d seen toys come and go. Garth the Stormtrooper had been given to a friend who had come over to play. A few of his fellow army action figures had been casualties of war, broken beyond repair during battle. Ash the cowboy (who always cheated at cards — the bastard) had been lost at the park. As other toys were put into donation boxes or sold at garage sales, Dean was held close and not let go. He was Ben’s favorite, after all.

Then, when Ben turned thirteen, he was given a PlayStation for his birthday and Dean was put back in the toy box with the others, never to be picked up again. He knew something like this would happen eventually, but it was still hard to watch Ben age and mature through the small gap of the lid when he couldn’t be there with him.

In the year that followed, Dean watched as toys were boxed up and donated. Gone were the race cars, the rest of his fellow army men, the set of dinosaurs, and everything else that indicated childhood. In their place were stacks of videogames, schoolbooks, and a desktop computer. Only Dean remained in the toybox, cushioned between spare blankets and old shoes.

Finally, it was Dean’s turn. He knew the moment Ben started digging to the bottom of his toybox, long since converted into a junk box, and picked him off the bottom with a look of guilt, that it was his time to go. With a lingering glance, Dean was lowered into a cardboard box that was already hall full of old books, and the flaps were folded in on each other, sealing him in. He sighed as he felt the box being picked up and taken out of the room. From what he understood, most of the other toys had either been taken to a donation center or sold. If they were extremely unlucky, they were tossed into the trash and taken to the dump. Being put in a box instead of a trash bag was an excellent sign. While it was sad he was no longer going to be with Ben, he was relieved to know that at least he would be with another child. Hopefully, soon. One to love and watch grow, one that would play with him and go on adventures with him again. Just like Ben used to.

This wasn’t the end, it was a new beginning.

When the slide of socked feet on hardwood floor stopped, and the rattle of cardboard sliding into place was silenced, Dean settled in for his wait. Who knew when Ben’s mom, Lisa, would be ready to take another trip down to the donation center? It could be weeks, or months until she had enough junk to justify a trip. He could only wait in his dark and lonely box until someone remembered he was there.

It was his army training that woke him from a little nap fifteen minutes later. A gentle shuffling, no louder than a whisper, was the first noise to reach his ears. He scrambled for his gun out of reflex, but it only took him seconds to remember Ben had misplaced his semi-automatic rifle years ago. Then, the sound of breathing came, too quiet to make out more than a gentle hiss. _Rats_ , was the first thing that came to mind. He’d never had to defend himself from a mouse or rat before, but he had heard horror stories of toys being ripped to pieces, never to be put back together again. Fingers being chewed off, sensitive plastic being used to sharpen teeth, and more. There was no way he’d allow a rodent to keep him from being with a new child. He crouched in the corner, ready to fight.

Suddenly the flaps were pulled open, and a silhouette appeared, backlit by dim light. A cheery plastic face with painted red hair met his eyes.

“Hello!” a feminine voice called down to him. “I’m Charlie, nice to officially meet you!”

His eyes widened and before he could stop himself, he pointed at her and blurted, “Hey, I know you!”

“You recognize me?”

“You’re, um…” he snapped his fingers, trying to recall her name. It had to be at least 4 years since he’d seen her. “You’re Tick-tock!”

She laughed loudly and clapped her stuffed hands together. “Yes!”

He let his body relax. Dean had seen this toy once or twice before from his place in the toybox. They’d never spoken, but the familiar face immediately put him at ease.

“It’s been a few years since I’ve been called Tick-tock. You must have been around a long time!” She pushed her long legs over the lip of the box and landed softly beside him. “Ben stopped believing a while ago, but thankfully Lisa is sentimental, right? But please, call me Charlie.”

The long-limbed Elf on the Shelf crouched across from him. Her green eyes were wide and welcoming, and her blushing cheeks brought warmth to her pale skin. “I’ve been elected as the one-manned — or womaned — welcoming committee. What’s your name?”

He pushed himself up to his full height, just barely shorter than the crouched elf, and stood to attention. “Lieutenant General Winchester, at your service.”

She clapped excitedly, her cloth hands barely making more than a soft _pat-pat._ “This is so exciting! We don’t get many toys from downstairs, anymore. Usually, they get sent to the garage… so _you_ , Lieutenant General, must be special.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to inform her that he had been Ben’s favorite toy, but he held himself back. He didn’t want her first impression of him to be bad, and the last thing he needed was a rumor that he was stuck up. “Just call me Dean.”

“Alright, Dean. As I said, I’m Charlie, formerly Tick-Tock, and I’m here to make sure you feel welcome in your new home!”

“We’re in the attic, right?” He glanced up at the wooden beams stretching across the roof. Dean had to admit it wasn’t that bad. Sure, it was dusty and smelled like old books, but what he could see was well lit and structurally sound.

“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking, but it’s really cool up here! Don’t worry at all, ok?”

“Are there any rodents up here?”

She shuddered. “No, thank Hermione. We run a pretty tight ship up here and got rid of any food long ago. We did have a raccoon, once… but we scared her away pretty quick. We don’t want to give Lisa _any_ reason to come up here.”

He looked her up and down. If a bunch of Christmas decorations could get rid of a wild raccoon, then maybe living up here wouldn’t be too bad. “So, what were you saying about my new home?”

“We have a little village set up in the back of the attic. Lisa hates it up here so she never goes that far. We’re perfectly safe back there.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Now, let’s get you out of here and to your new place. They’ve already started getting everything ready for you!”

He thought of people working to make him at home and immediately felt uncomfortable. “I can just stay here. It’s not the worst place I’ve ever slept.” It really wasn’t. One time, Ben had taken him into the car and lost him down the hole beside the seatbelt. It was dark and lonely, and he’d hated every second of it. He’d been there for four days before Lisa got tired of Ben’s complaining and finally rescued him. It had taken Ben hours to get all of the gummy bear residue off of him.

“Oh, no way. We have plenty of space for you, besides, these books can’t be comfortable.”

He stepped on one, putting his full weight into it. The book didn’t have any give. “It's not that bad.”

She stuck her lip out in a pout. “I couldn’t just leave you here! We already have space set aside for you!”

“You knew I was coming?”

“Well, not you, in particular,” she corrected, “but Lisa loves Christmas and shops practically year-round, so we like to have space set aside just in case. The minute we realized a new box was coming up, we started getting a home ready.”

He glanced at the contents of his box. “Well, I guess that’s ok… since I won't be putting anyone out.”

Her smile widened. “Awesome! Can I introduce you to everyone?”

Dean forced a smile. “Sure.”

She must have seen the look of panic that briefly crossed his face. “Oh, don’t worry. There aren’t many of us up here since most of her Christmas decorations are inanimate. We’re all very nice, I promise.”

Dean took one look at her smiling face and nodded. There was no way any kind of Christmas-related toy or decoration could have an ounce of rude stuffing in their bodies. “So, how do I get out of this box?”

She looked around for a moment. “I’ll give you a boost.”

“Yeah ok, let's go.”

“Great!” She hopped to her feet. “Ready?”

He nodded his consent and was helped over the side of the box, landing on the dusty wooden floor. He brushed off his fatigues, adjusted his nametag, and stood to his full height, turning to take in his surroundings. The attic was dusty, but he could feel lots of fresh air coming in from the slotted ventilation. Boxes surrounded him, some so old that the tape holding them together had failed and their contents were spilling out. The air was thick with the scent of old books and wood, and if he took time to explore, he was sure he’d find a decade’s worth of broken furniture scattered around.

There were figures surrounding them, dressed in red and green and all covered in varying amounts of glitter. They all looked pleasant and happy to see him, exactly what he would expect from a group of Christmas décor. He sent a tentative nod their way, knowing that he had to be on his best behavior. The attic was his home now, and these were his new neighbors.

“So! This is most of us!” Charlie took a step and pointed to a small blond with a thick scarf and woolen coat. “This is Jo. She’s one of the citizens in the Christmas Village. They’ve got some sweet digs over there… a library, schoolhouse, town hall. She lives in the music store. There are a few others, but they like to keep to themselves. Make sure you wander in and say hi to everyone, I’m sure they’d love to meet you!”

Before Dean could properly greet her, Charlie was moving on. The next one was a nutcracker, easily four times his size, with long hair and red cheeks. His black hat stood tall on his head and his blue uniform was painted cleanly onto his wooden body. Dean looked up just in time to see the nutcracker's wooden mouth open into a welcoming smile. “Charlie, aren’t you going to introduce him?”

She slapped herself on the forehead. “Duh. I can’t believe I forgot. Everyone, this is Dean. He just came from Ben’s room. Dean, this is Sam. The other nutcracker is Bobby.”

Dean gave a tentative nod to the scowling nutcracker before another victim was pulled in front of him. This one was an angel with hazel eyes and cream-colored wings. A golden string was looped on top of his head, and Dean immediately knew that he was an ornament. The small angel reached up, sticking his hand out for Dean to shake. “Gabriel, at your service.”

Dean grasped the cold porcelain and pumped the hand up and down. “Nice to meet you.”

The angel winked at him. “Oh, yes. It’s _very_ nice to meet you.”

“Well, hello there,” an accented voice cut in. Dean glanced up in time to see another porcelain angel ornament push through to the front to stand beside Gabriel.

“Oh, great,” Charlie muttered. “I was hoping you were busy.”

“Now, now, now…” He took Charlie’s hand and pulled it to his lips for a kiss. “You don’t need to pretend, love.”

Dean pursed his lips, torn between amusement and annoyance. He cleared his throat to pull his attention away from Charlie. “Hey, I’m Dean, and you are?”

The ornament smirked and sauntered towards him, taking Dean’s hand into his porcelain one. “The name’s Balthazar, and might I say, I do love a man in uniform. You know how to follow orders, don’t you? I like that…” he took another step closer. “I’m good at _giving_ orders.”

Gabe scoffed. “Don’t forget I saw him first, Balthy. I got dibs.”

Balthazar winked at Dean. “I have a feeling he’ll make the right choice eventually. Come visit me _anytime_ , big boy…”

They walked off, leaving Dean gaping in shock. “Are they for real?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Keep an eye on Gabriel. He may seem tame compared to Balthazar, but he’s a handful. If he gives you problems, come to me. I have some dirt on him.” She paused to look around, only a few more waiting to get introduced. “We have a few more angel ornaments. Their names are Anna and Alfie, but they’re nothing like that. There’s one angel, in particular, I want you to meet. He must be getting things ready. I’ll have to introduce you two later. Now, who do we have next…”

Dean’s forced smile ratcheted up another notch. After the first two, he really wasn’t interested in meeting any more angels.

A woman stepped forward with shining blond hair, rosy cheeks, and a slightly upturned nose. “Just be happy Lisa lost Raphael last year.”

“We think he escaped,” Charlie added. “Lisa bought a whole box of angels one year, but he was the absolute worst. This is Jessica. Lisa used to have a Whoville setup, but Ben got too old for it and sent it to a thrift store a few years ago. Jess is the only one left.”

“Lucky you.”

“It really _was_ luck,” she confirmed, smirking at Dean. “I fell out of the box as she was taking it downstairs. Charlie got to me first.”

“Well, that’s almost all of us.” She glanced around at the already dispersing group. “Where _is_ that angel? Oh well, you’ll meet him eventually since you’re going to be his neighbor. Now, let’s get you to your new home.”

“So, I have my own place?”

“Of course! I know you’re used to being packed into a toy box with a million others, but we like to have our own spaces up here.” She linked her arm through his and began pulling him towards the far end of the attic. “I’m sure I could get a few of us together for a little cuddle pile, though, if that’s something you’re going to miss.”

“No, I’m good.”

She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “Are you sure? That sounds kind of nice!”

“We didn’t do ‘cuddle piles’ in the toy box.”

“Well, that’s just sad. Everyone needs a good cuddle. If you change your mind, I’m down.”

She led him through a maze of stacked boxes and dusty furniture, weaving in and out so often that Dean knew he would never find the entrance to the attic again. Not that it really mattered. If he played his cards right, he could be up in the attic for a good long while. Finally, she led him into a wall of boxes. She walked up to one and pushed through the flaps, holding one open for Dean to follow. With a gleeful smile, she turned to him and gestured to the other side. “Now, welcome to our little town.”

The moment she pushed through the other side of the box, Dean was in awe. Electric candles lit up the area, casting everything in a warm glow. White Christmas lights strung from building to building, reminding him of phone wires. A carpet of fake snow was the foundation of the little town, held down in the middle by a tall Christmas tree dotted with colorful baubles. The electric tea candles were placed between boxes, each with a door cut into the front, sized to fit the resident within. His welcome committee trailed in and filled the space, some entering their little homes, and some staying to chat. Altogether, there were about fifteen people milling around.

“This is our home!” She gestured to a few buildings that made up the border. “This is the town square, and there’s the Christmas Village that Jo and the others live in right next to it. I live in that computer box, so visit any time.” She led him further into the makeshift town square and continued with her tour. “Gabriel runs a community center. It’s the only two-story building we have because of how much of a pain it was to build the stairs, so you won’t miss it. I wouldn’t go over there, though. It’s more like a club, and he likes to spray everyone with bubbles. Trust me, it’s a bitch to get out of your stuffing.” She led him along with a few more boxes with holes cut out for doors and windows and finally stopped. “And this will be yours!”

Dean took a step forward and regarded his box. It was an old toaster box, long and almost a foot wide. “This is all…”

“Cool, right?” she filled in for him. “I think it is. Once Thanksgiving comes, the others will box themselves up near the front so Lisa never has to go back here. Those of us left, that’s you, me, and a few others get to hang out while the rest get put out for Christmas!”

He nodded along, trying to formulate a response, but Charlie continued to talk.

“Now, wait here for a second. We don’t precut the doors because we never know how big our new friends might be, so I need to find the exacto knife.”

He watched her amble off, looking left and right in search of the blade. When she was out of sight, he sighed. Dean really hoped that when Charlie returned, he could get inside and relax. He’d had a rollercoaster of a day, and not twenty minutes ago, he thought he would have to fight off a rat. He needed a nap, and he needed it now. He ran a hand through his hair and pressed into his neck, working out the stiffness.

Once a bit of the tension left his body, he decided to examine his box a little closer. Rapping a knuckle against the colorful exterior, he nodded in satisfaction. It was sturdy, thankfully, and the cardboard felt thick. Walking along the front, he turned the corner and examined the length of his new home. As he thought, it was about two feet long, and the box must have been pretty new because the gloss still shone in the candlelight. Smiling, he started making plans. He wouldn’t know for sure until he was able to enter it, but he should be able to divide it into two separate rooms, maybe three. He just had to talk to Charlie about getting more cardboard.

It surprised him to realize that he was looking forward to having his own space. He’d always shared a bed with Ben, and when the kid got older, he shared a large toy box with a handful of toys. Dean was going to have privacy, and for the first time all day, he was actually excited.

Satisfied, he headed back towards the front so he could wait for Charlie to return with the exacty knife. He was just rounding the corner, when his neighbor opened his door stepped out. Dean froze mid-step and threw himself back and out of sight. Heart racing, he peeked around the corner for a better look.

His neighbor was big, not nearly as big as Charlie, but still a few inches taller than Dean. Dove gray wings sprouted from his back, unlike anything he’d ever seen. While Gabriel’s and Balthasar's wings had been formed with porcelain and glazed to shine, _this_ angel’s wings were feathered and soft. His neighbor shifted them as he moved forward, and the light rippled across the glossy feathers.

His robe was an ice blue with silver thread woven throughout. It caressed the floor, trailing behind him as he stepped from his doorway. White fur trimmed the bottom and ran up the front to a hood that bunched at his neck and revealed dark unruly hair. Dean could only see his profile, but he got a clear view of a sharp jawline and full lips. Dean watched the angel from his hiding spot and took in his strong brow, the long eyelashes resting on his sharp cheekbones as they blinked slowly, taking in the view of the town square.

Dean was in a lot of trouble.

The subject of his attention continued on, ignorant of the set of eyes following his every move, his fur-trimmed blue robe trailing behind him. Dean watched the sway of his robe in fascination, wondering where the hell the angel had been earlier.

“Whatcha doing?” Charlie asked from beside him.

He jumped at the surprise but kept his eyes trained on the beautiful angel. “Who is that?”

She glanced around and her eyes landed on the porcelain angels talking near the Christmas tree. “Who, Alfie?”

“No, not the small angel, the big one.” He pointed right at the robed angel. “Him.”

“Oh! There he is! That’s Castiel, but all his friends call him Cas.” She elbowed him in the side. “He’s the one I wanted to introduce you to earlier. He was probably busy with another commission.”

“Commission?” he asked curiously, never taking his eyes off of the brunette.

“He’s the one that you need to talk to about extra furniture. He’s crazy good with cardboard and super glue, so if you want something, he’s your guy. Once we take a look inside, I can grab you a table, chairs, and a bed. All of it was made by him.”

“What _is_ he?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s a little rude, don’t you think?”

He stared at her wide-eyed and embarrassed. “I, uh—”

She burst into chuckles. “I’m just messing with you! He’s been the tree topper for the last five years, ever since Naomi retired. Trust me, he’s way nicer than she was.”

“Aren’t tree toppers supposed to be girls?”

“Well, angels aren’t really made with a gender in mind, you know. Cas felt like a male, so he’s a male.”

He went back to staring at the angel.

“He’s super nice, and he’s the only one who can keep Gabe in check. Well, other than me…” She leaned in to whisper into his ear, “Plus, he lights up when you plug him in — which is hilarious by the way, although you didn’t hear it from me…”

Dean nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the angel. “What's his name, again?”

“Castiel.”

Dean mouthed the name to himself, eyes trailing after the angel as he turned and disappeared into the Christmas Village. “That’s a mouthful.”

“Want me to introduce you?”

His eyes widened. “No, I’ll go and talk to him after I have a nap.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself! Let’s get you a door.”

He stood next to the door and let her mark the proper height and width for him, and then assisted in cutting out the door, leaving one edge intact so he could open and close it. She went on to suggest windows, but he balked. He didn’t like the idea of people being able to see into his box. “I want my privacy.”

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I get it! You know, Lisa had plans to start sewing a few years ago. It didn’t work out, but there should still be tons of supplies.”

And that was how he ended up with crooked yellow curtains superglued above his windows. Finally alone, with an electric candle to keep him company, he sat in the middle of his new home and let out a breath. He had plans to build himself a wall tomorrow, so he could have a separate bedroom, but for now, he’d have to make due. Charlie had been able to find him a table, three benches he could use as chairs, a little couch, a bed, and some soft fabric they were able to fold up into a mattress for him. There were other things he wanted. A box for storage, more seating so he could have people over, and maybe a few side tables for his bedroom… but that would mean talking to the handsome angel.

He made his way over to the window and shifted his curtain aside so he could get a good look. People milled around in their little winter wonderland, talking and smiling. With pursed lips, he let the curtain drop back into place and sighed. This place was going to take some getting used to.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

The next morning, a knock on his front door drew his attention. Righting his clothes, he stood from where he had sprawled out for a quick nap and took a deep breath before answering. Thankfully, it was Charlie.

“Good morning!” she chirped happily. “I figured you could use some company. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He held open the door and shifted over so she could crouch her way through the low doorway. “Maybe I should have made a bigger door…”

“Nonsense. I’ll be fine.” She stood and looked around. “Hm. I need to get you another candle, don’t I? It's looking a little sad in here.”

He would have been offended if it weren’t true. “I’ll take another candle if you have any.”

She waved him off. “We have a whole box of them.”

Dean watched her walk to the far end of his box and then back again, her critical eye examining every corner. Using her own arms, she measured about one and a half body lengths before stopping and turning to him.

“You probably want the bedroom to be about this big, right?” She skipped to him and pulled him towards the back, putting him right in the middle of where the bedroom portion would be. “See? Plenty of room. The other half could be for entertaining.”

“Uh, yeah. That would be cool.”

“Awesome! We keep all of the spare materials by the old dining table, so it won’t take long at all!”

“Now?”

“Well, yeah. Why not?” She walked over to the door and pushed it open. “I’ll be back, ok?”

He watched her go and shook his head.

Her never-ending enthusiasm was going to take some getting used to. Pushing the curtain aside to peak at the outside world, he settled in to watch the few people who were out and about. Gabe was strutting around the tree, waving his hands around and talking to Sam, who was seated on a stapler and looking at the angel in annoyance.

Dean watched on in amusement until they were disturbed by a newcomer. Castiel. Straightening, Sam held his hand out for the angel to shake and then gestured for Castiel to join him. Dean couldn’t hear what was said, but the angel clearly declined the invitation and said a few more words before moving on into the community center. Dean watched him go, eying the way his robe fluttered with each step, and the shine of the light reflecting off the angel’s wings. He was so caught up in watching Castiel walk away, that he didn’t even notice Charlie’s return until it was too late.

“Aww, how cute!”

He turned, and to his surprise, Charlie was already in his house, super glue in one hand, and an Exacto knife in the other. Damn her quiet fabric feet. “Huh?”

“Oh, keep going,” she told him. “This is fascinating.”

Dean’s cheeks flooded with heat. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Oh, yeah? Looks like you were giving Castiel the heart eyes.”

“Heart eyes,” he scoffed. “I wasn’t giving _anyone_ heart eyes.”

“Do you want to meet him? He’s super nice,” she continued like Dean hadn’t even spoken. “Come on, I promise he doesn’t bite.”

He dodged her reaching hand.

“Oh, come on…” she pleaded. “He’s single!”

“Charlie…” he warned.

“Let’s go!” She reached for his arm but he was too quick. “Stop being so shy!”

“I’m not shy, I’m just busy! We’re putting up a wall right now, and then I need to — uh, I need to take a look around the attic, make sure it’s secure. You don’t want another raccoon, do you?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “But he’s your neighbor. Come on, you’ll have to say hi eventually!”

“And I will,” he grumbled, “when I have some free time.”

“It won't take long! All you have to tell him is that you think he’s dreamy! Or that you like his robe. The blue makes his eyes pop, right?”

“I never said I liked him!”

“Then what’s with the heart eyes?”

“I _wasn’t_ giving him heart eyes. I don’t do heart eyes, ok?”

She rolled her eyes. “Let me introduce you two, ok? He’s the only one you haven’t met yet. If you don’t, he’ll start to think you don’t like him!”

He bit his lip, knowing she was right. “I’m still settling in, ok?”

“It’s been two days, and you haven’t left your house,” she complained. “As your best friend, I’m starting to think I’ll need to hold an intervention!”

“You’re my _only_ friend.”

“Yeah, only because you don’t go out!”

He glared at her in response.

She seemed to relent. “I know this is a big adjustment, so I’ll let it go.”

The tension bled from his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Now, let’s see what we can do about making you a bedroom!”

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

He didn’t end up exploring the attic that day, or even the next. It wasn’t until his fourth day in the attic that he left his box at all. As much as he was dreading going out and being social for the first time in his new home, he didn’t want to be labeled the town recluse. That morning, when the sun finally made its appearance and the attic lit up with its soft glow, Dean told himself to man the fuck up and strolled out his door with his head held high.

Dean walked straight up to the Christmas tree in the center of the square and examined it, using his military-trained senses to scope out the general feel of those around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see people pause in their tasks and look at him, some clearly debating coming up and saying hi, but most decided against it. The one who _didn’t_ decide against it was Charlie.

“Dean!” she yelled. Her long legs carried her out from between some boxes, a tube of superglue in hand.

He groaned internally. Anyone who hadn’t noticed him before paid attention now. “Hey, Charlie.”

She slung the tube over her shoulder and came to his side. “Good to see you in the land of the living! What are you up to today?”

“Wanted to finally take a look around.”

Her eyes lit up. “Want a tour?”

“Sure.”

“Yes!” Her fist pumped in the air and she walked off, Dean scrambling to follow. “Ok, come with me. I just have to get this glue to Cas and then we can go.”

He stumbled, “You know what? Maybe I’ll just head off on my own.”

She smirked at him knowingly. “It will only take a second.”

He grumbled, but couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse _not_ to follow her. They headed to Cas’s place, but instead of knocking on the front door, they turned to go around the side. Behind Cas’s house was a stack of cardboard and half-finished projects. Cas crouched over the scraps, picking up pieces before examining them and putting them back down. His blue robe was bunched at the knee for ease of movement, exposing white linen trousers and bare feet. It almost felt intimate to see his bare feet when the rest of him was covered from head to toe. He pried his eyes away before his mind could get too carried away.

“Cas!” she yelled with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Cas straightened and turned to Charlie, a frown wrinkling the space between his brows. He relaxed at the sight of his friend and then turned his eyes to Dean. The angel held his gaze, blue clashing with green, and stood to his considerable height. His instinct told him to turn away, to buckle under the intensity of Castiel’s gaze, but he held fast. Dean felt like he was being measured and weighed, like the angel was looking into his soul. Without breaking eye contact, Cas nodded at him and approached.

He held out his hand and spoke in an impossibly deep voice. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Dean grasped his porcelain hand. “Dean Winchester.”

“Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel. You’re my new neighbor.”

Dean spied Charlie over Castiel’s shoulder nodding quickly and giving him a thumbs up. “Yeah, uh… I meant to drop by, but…”

“I’m sure you’ve been settling in. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve meant to drop by and ask if you needed anything from me.” He gestured towards his scrap pile and half-finished projects. “I’m sure Charlie’s informed you, but I am the ‘go-to’ furniture maker.”

Dean couldn’t help his smile at Castiel’s air quotes. Could this guy get any cuter? “Yeah, she did.”

“Is there anything you need?”

Dean paused, weighing his options. Castiel seemed like a nice guy who genuinely wanted to help out where he could. Dean looked up at him, craning his neck to look the angel in the eye. “I want something for storage. Do you have anything?”

He nodded slowly in thought. “What is the function? I can make wardrobes, cupboards, chests, all used for different things.”

“I think we can start out with a chest.”

“Excellent. I can start working on that as soon as I’m done with Gabriel’s new table.” He turned away from Dean to address Charlie. “Did you bring the—”

The tube of glue was left leaning up against the wall of Cas’s box and she was nowhere to be seen. Dean wasn’t fooled by her sudden disappearance, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel surprised that she would attempt to give him some alone time with the angel. He watched Cas’s reaction carefully, eager to see if being alone with Dean made him uncomfortable, but he just shrugged and turned his attention back to Dean. “She must have been busy.”

“Sure,” Dean replied skeptically. “Do you need help with anything?”

“No. It will only take me an hour, it’s just a matter of finishing Gabriel’s table first.”

“Do I owe you anything for the chest or any of the other furniture?”

“No. This is my hobby and I do it for fun, not for payment.”

He didn’t feel comfortable getting free shit, especially from someone like Cas. “Well, I want to make it up to you somehow. Why don’t I pay you with my company, then? Come over when you’re done and we can hang out.”

“Hang out,” Cas repeated. “You’d like to spend time with me?”

“Sure.”

A slow smile curved his full lips, and Dean was awed by the sight of it. His blue eyes crinkled in amusement, and Dean would give anything to see that expression on his face again. “I’d like that.”

Dean smiled in return, unable to stop himself even if he wanted to. “Awesome. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Cas kept his eyes trained on him as he walked away. “I’ll see you soon.”

Once he was out of sight, he stopped to panic. What had he done? How could he invite someone over to ‘hang out’ when he didn’t have any idea what they could do to keep themselves busy? Well, he thought with a blush, he could think of a _few_ things they could do to keep themselves busy. He shook the images out of his mind and resumed his panicking. He’d think of sexy stuff later; for now, he needed to figure out how he was going to keep Cas entertained.

“Charlie…” he muttered to himself. It was her fault he was in this situation, and he was going to make her help. He marched into the town square and knocked on her door. She answered a moment later, seemingly surprised to see him. “You…” he threatened. “This is all your fault.”

She took a step back and let him in. “What did I do this time?”

He flopped down onto one of her chairs and pinned her with a glare. “All I wanted was a tour, but you left me alone with him and now he’s coming over to hang out later today.”

Her typical welcoming smile warped into a Grinch-like grin by the time Dean finished. “You have a date!”

He balked. “It's not a date!”

“It’s _so_ a date.”

“I would know if it’s a date.”

“Would you, though?”

“Yeah, I would.”

She hummed to herself. “I don’t think you do, because this sounds like a date to me.”

“Well, It’s not,” he grumbled in embarrassment. “We’re just hanging out.”

“And this is my fault?”

“Of course!”

“Well, you’re welcome then!”

“This isn’t a thank you! I invited him over, but I don’t have anything for us to do!”

“I got you covered.” She walked over to her bedroom, and Dean could see her crouch and dig around under her bed. “I know I have something in here… Ah-ha!” she marched proudly back into the front room brandishing a set of hand-drawn playing cards.

He took them from her and stared at them. The cards were the size of his forearm and inked onto thick cardstock. He gave the large stack a quick perusal, shuffling through the deck until he was satisfied. “Should I ask him to play solitaire, then?”

“Think bigger, Dean! Speed, go fish, crazy eights…” She threw her arm over his shoulder and pulled him in to whisper into his ear, “strip poker.”

He pushed her away. “Thanks for the cards, Charlie. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Dean walked out to the sound of her cackling.

He spent the rest of the day at his place, organizing and making sure his walls were straight. Dean didn’t know what was going to happen between them, but he at least wanted to make sure his house looked nice. His bed was remade and the furniture was reorganized to make room for Cas’s larger size. From experience, he knew that some toys hade better mobility than others, and while it looked like Cas was fully articulated, he didn’t want to take any chances.

By the time a few hours had passed, and he’d exhausted himself with worrying, a knock shook his flimsy door. He took a deep breath and opened it to the sight of Cas, large chest in hand.

“Cas” he greeted warmly. “Come in!”

The angel stared at his door for a moment before bending at the waist and awkwardly shuffling in. Dean took a step back to give him more room and held back his smile. He forgot how much taller Cas was than him. He tried to decide if it bothered him, and his mind firmly landed on a big, fat NO. It did the opposite of bothering him. In fact, he really liked it. It was getting harder and harder to keep the dirty thoughts out of his mind as he spiraled deeper and deeper into inappropriate territory. When the angel was able to right himself, he took a long look around and nodded in satisfaction. “Your living room is lovely. It appears you _do_ have everything you need.”

Dean puffed his chest with pride. “Thanks, man. Want me to take that?”

Cas passed the chest to him and Dean was finally able to examine it. He had expected a box, or something equally simple, but Cas had gone above and beyond. The base was wide and sturdy, probably double-layered with cardboard, and the sides were straight. The lid, hinged at the back with strong tape, was curved, creating an attractive dome on top. He smiled his pleasure at Cas and walked it to his room where he set it at the foot of his bed before coming back out to stand awkwardly beside Cas.

“It's great.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

They stared at each other in silence while Dean internally beat himself up for being so damn awkward. How hard was it to have a conversation with the guy? All he had to do was ask Cas about his hobby, or even talk about the damn weather, but standing there with Cas’s eyes so focused on him was leaving him tongue-tied and flustered.

“Cards!” he finally blurted out when he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

Cas tilted his head and regarded him silently.

He gulped and tried again. “Want to play a card game?”

Cas’s eyes flicked to where the stack of cards sat on his table. “I don’t know many games.”

He sighed in relief. “That’s fine. What do you know?”

“Solitaire, poker, a few others.”

His heart stuttered in his chest as the words ‘strip poker’ looped in his head. He swallowed around the lump in his throat before replying, “We can play poker.”

They sat around his coffee table and Cas shuffled the large deck awkwardly, sending a few cards flying. Dean had to bite his lip to keep from saying something stupid about how adorable the guy was. Cas dealt the first hand easily enough, despite the large size of the cards, and immediately needed a refresher course on how to play. Clearly, he’d have to go easy on the guy.

By chance, Cas won the first game. And then the second. Then the third. He smiled in surprised pleasure with every victory, and if Cas wasn’t absolutely wiping the floor with him, he would consider throwing the game just to get another one of those addicting smiles out of him.

“Ok!” Dean called out when he lost his fourth hand. “Let’s play something else, alright?”

“I’m sorry, should I have let you win a round?”

Dean’s head shot up in shock, and it wasn’t until he saw the joking smirk and twinkle in Cas’s eye that he let himself send Cas a playful wink. “Do you know how to play slap? I’ll sweep the floor with you.”

“Sweep the floor with you… I can’t say I’ve heard that one.”

“Means I’m going to kick your ass, buddy.”

Cas cocked an eyebrow, sending flutters deep into Dean’s belly. “Interesting metaphor for such a bold claim.”

“Oh, it’s a fact, sweetheart.” He scooped the cards up and split them evenly, handing Cas his own stack. “Know the rules?”

“Oh, I know the rules.”

He hadn't considered the ramifications of playing the game until the first time Cas put a diamond on top of another and Dean slapped his hand onto the deck with Cas’s hand following half a second later. His smooth porcelain hand stayed there for a moment, warming Dean’s until he slowly drew his hand away with his fingers trailing softly over his knuckles. Dean leaned in slightly, savoring the touch.

Cas’s wings shuffled behind him and he cleared his throat. “You’re fast.”

He shook himself out of it and shrugged at Cas. “I used to play this with the boys. General Chuck was an absolute shark. You should see us play spoons; well… we used legos. Sometimes we’d get into wrestling matches over those damn things.”

“We should get a group together and play that one.”

A flush ran down his body at the idea of rolling on the floor with Cas, body parts tangling in the fight over a stupid lego. “Yeah, sure…”

“Do you miss the other toys?”

“A little. I miss the brotherhood. Our squad went through a lot, but we stuck together.”

“Do you think you can find that here?”

He thought about Charlie and her unrelenting enthusiasm. He thought of Sam’s kind smiles and Jess’s friendly waves. He thought of Cas, with his soft wings and intense stare. “Yeah, I think I can.”

Cas seemed pleased. “Ready to play?”

Dean nodded and placed his hand on his deck. “Let's go.”

They put down card after card, each ready to steal the stack the moment they could. For the second time in a row, Dean saw his chance and slapped his hand down on a set of hearts. Cas hadn’t even made a move to take it, and he smirked in satisfaction. Deam scooped up the pile, preparing kind words for the slowpoke who was sitting across from him but was stopped by a firm hand on his forearm. “Not so fast.”

“Don’t be jealous, Cas.”

“That was a spade. You have to discard two cards.”

Dean frowned, but put the deck down anyway, ready to prove Cas wrong. “No, it was a heart.”

Cas cocked an eyebrow and flicked the heart off the top, revealing a spade underneath. “Discard.”

Dean threw down two cards angrily, muttering threats under his breath. Without saying another word, he readied his card. Cas rolled his eyes but restarted the game. They played for what felt like hours, both winning and losing too many times to count. His insides felt like they were floating inside his body with all of the contact he was getting. Before coming to the attic, he’d been alone so long he couldn’t remember the last time he was touched by another toy. He never wanted the game to end, but before long, Dean started gaining the upper hand. He considered throwing a few rounds just to keep the game going, but decided against it. Despite his own feelings about Cas, he wasn’t sure about the angel's feelings towards _him_.

“Ha!” he yelled, grabbing the rest of his cards after a hard-won victory. “Suck it!”

“Suck what, exactly?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he was just about to choke out a rambling explanation, but Cas’s smirk gave him away. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“I may have been informed of that once or twice.”

“Well, I like it.”

For the second time in one day, a smile pulled at Cas’s lips. “Good.”

Dean’s answering smile was blinding. “Want to play again?”

“Another time, if that’s ok with you. I still haven’t delivered Gabriel’s new table.”

Dean’s chest warmed at that little piece of information. “Awe, you delivered mine first? I’m flattered.”

“It wasn’t a hard decision. Did I tell you how his original table broke?” At Dean’s head shake, he continued with a long-suffering sigh. “He had one of his famous bubble parties the other day and Balthazar decided to jump off of the second floor and into the bubbles. Well, the bubbles were about five inches thick at this point and he landed right on the already waterlogged table. I think the wet cardboard was the only thing that kept him from breaking himself. I’m still quite angry at him.”

He couldn’t hold back his laugh. “I only met him once, and I’m not surprised. Dude’s a dick.”

“Yes, but I still consider him a brother.”

“Is it the whole—” he waved at Cas’s wings, “angel thing?”

“That’s part of it. Before Lisa brought me home, I was with the other Seraphs. They were cold and ruled by their laws. Coming here was a revelation. I was able to speak my mind and fill my time with things I enjoy. I consider every single one of them my family.”

“That’s nice. I like it here, too. I haven’t really talked to anyone yet, but Charlie has been…” he trailed off, unsure how he should describe her. Enthusiastic? Kind? Nosy? Way too invested in Dean’s love life for her own good?

“She is a pillar of the community. Charlie was also _my_ welcome wagon. It was a difficult transition, but she helped me through it.”

Dean’s love for Charlie intensified at the compassion she showed to Cas. “She sounds like a good friend.”

“She is.” Cas picked the large deck up and began toying with the cards. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say Cas looked nervous. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much fun. I really enjoyed myself tonight.”

Dean nodded happily in agreement. “Me too.”

“We should do this again.”

“That sounds great. You free tomorrow?”

“Yes. Maybe I can see if Charlie would lend us more games to play.”

The idea of spending more alone time with Cas was a good one. A _really_ good one. “I don’t think she’d mind.” In fact, he was pretty sure Charlie would lose her shit because what Cas was hinting at sounded an awful lot like a date. It was on the tip of his tongue to use that word, to casually use the phrase ‘it’s a date,’ but he chickened out.

Cas maintained eye contact for a moment longer and looked away, the light of the electric candle casting him in a soft yellow glow. “I better get Gabriel his table before it gets too late.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me get the door for you.” He led Cas to the front and pushed open the flap, stepping aside so Cas could squeeze himself through. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll do it at your place. I’d hate to see you lose a few feathers trying to get in and out of here.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I promise my wings are very durable. If you’d like to have our game night at my house, you are more than welcome.”

Dean couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. “Cool.”

There was another moment of eye contact before he turned to leave, quickly turning the corner and disappearing out of sight. He shut the door behind Cas and let out a nervous sigh. The night had gone great and now he had another chance to hang out with Cas. Maybe even ask him out on a _real_ date.

Suddenly, his door was being thrown open and a large head poked in. He jumped back in shock as Charlie folded herself in and stood to her full height. “Hi!”

“Jesus!” he yelled, his chest clenching uncomfortably. “Were you waiting outside? Fuck.”

“I wasn’t watching if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He squinted at her, sure that was exactly what she had been doing. “What do you want?”

“How did your date go?”

“It wasn’t a date,” he protested.

“Oh, come on. It totally was.”

“It wasn’t.”

“But you wanted it to be, didn’t you?”

He knew there was no use in lying. She had him figured out the moment he laid eyes on Cas. “Maybe.”

She practically screamed in delight. Taking his hand, she led him to the couch. “Tell me everything? I want to know about every moment. Did you hold his hand? Did you two stare lovingly into each other's eyes? Is he a good kisser? I bet he’s a good kisser!”

“Quiet,” he hissed, “he’s right next door!”

“He’s probably already at Gabriel's.”

“Charlie, were you listening at the window?”

“…No.”

“Charlie, I swear to god…”

“It was only for a second! I just wanted to make sure things were going well and then I left! Scout’s honor.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. Come on, tell me what happened.”

“We played a few games and then he left. End of story.”

She pouted. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it. We’re doing it again tomorrow.”

“So it _was_ a date!”

“Just two dudes hanging out.”

“Yeah, two dudes on a date! You’re going to ask him out again tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Shit, do angels even date?”

“That’s a dumb question, of course they do! Gabe and Balthazar have had a weird on-again off-again thing going on for years.”

“Ew.”

“Can I come and play some games with you two?”

“No. I’m asking him out, remember? You’ll ruin it.”

“First of all, how dare you. Second, I’m the best wingwoman. Third, he’s totally going to say yes!”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m telling you, he likes you. Scout’s honor.”

“You’re not even a scout. Stop saying that.”

“Yes, but I would have been an amazing scout, don’t you think?”

Finally, he had enough of her needling. “It’s late. Get out.”

“But I just got here!” she complained.

Dean rose to his feet and began leading her to the door. “Out.”

“Fine, but I’ll be back tomorrow for more details.”

Finally alone, he let his head thunk against the wall and let out a deep sigh. Only a moment later his whole wall shook with the force of someone knocking on his door.

“For fuck's sake!” he growled and yanked the door open. “I told you—”

Except it wasn’t Charlie, it was Cas. He stood there, his fist still raised and a look of surprise on his handsome face. “I’ll come back later.”

“No!” he shouted reflexively before clearing his throat and trying again. “It’s fine. Come in.”

Cas hesitated for a moment and then went to work fitting himself through Dean's too-small door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help but overhear…”

He was going to _murder_ Charlie. “Oh, shit. You heard that?”

He shuffled awkwardly. “I was still in the back getting the table. I didn’t mean to listen, but Charlie can be very loud when she’s excited and cardboard isn’t very thick...”

“Shit. I didn’t want to make things weird…”

“I’m sorry… I shouldn't have come. Gabriel always tells me my people skills are rusty.”

“Well, Gabe’s a dick.”

“I’ll leave. Are you still interested in seeing me tomorrow?”

“Of course! It's my fault, Cas. Are you sure you want _me_ there? I’m the one who made things all weird...”

“You didn’t.”

“Huh?” he questioned stupidly.

“You didn’t make things weird. I came to say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“To the date.”

“That I was going to ask you on tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

They stood there awkwardly, Cas waiting for Dean to say something — anything, and Dean trying to get his brain to go online after receiving what had to be the shock of his life. Cas had overheard their conversation. Cas had come over to say yes, saving Dean from even having to ask. Cas felt so strongly about saying yes to a date with him that he took matters into his own hands and left no room for doubt. Cas wanted to _date_ him.

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Cas finally said after Dean’s silence lasted too long.

Dean watched him turn to leave, his sluggish mind still stuck on ‘ _He wants to date you_!’ He was bending to exit Dean’s house when Dean finally snapped out of it. _Kiss him,_ his mind was screaming. Dean’s arm moved on his own, and before he knew it, his fist was clutching blue fabric and Cas was frozen. _Kiss him!_ his brain shouted again, and Dean was taking a step closer, and then another. The next thing he knew, he was toe to toe with the angel, looking up at him with wide eyes. Cas turned his body towards Dean, a crease of confusion between his eyebrows. _Kiss him!_ And finally, he listened.

Dean leaned forward and tilted his head up, leveling Cas with a hooded gaze. “Cas…”

There was a brief moment of surprise and indecision, but it was gone in an instant and Cas was bending at the waist to bring his face closer to Dean’s. With one final push, Dean was on his toes and their lips were touching somewhere between their three-inch size difference, dry and warm and sweet. He let out a noise a pleasure, both at the feeling of Cas’s lips on his and the thought that _finally_ Cas’s capable hands were on him. The feeling of Cas’s palms cupping his neck, sandwiching his face between his hands oh so gently, sent warmth through his body.

The urge to touch surged through his blood, and suddenly, his hands were in Cas’s hair and pulling the angel closer, uncaring that Cas was already bending over to kiss him and could lose his balance at any moment. He almost _wanted_ Cas to fall into him, to sprawl across his body as they kissed on the floor of his box, to feel like Cas was consuming him with his body as much as the kiss. He ached to feel Cas’s weight pressing him into the floor, to feel the size difference between them so acutely.

Cas’s lips parted slightly, bringing just the right amount of wetness to the kiss and easing the slide of their lips. Dean heard a low groan, but he wasn’t sure who it came from. He was so lost in the pressure of Cas’s lips that an entire parade could have gone through the town square and he would have been none the wiser. The grip on his face softened and fingers trailed down to his neck and stopped at his shoulders, holding him still and taking. That time, he _knew_ the needy sound had come out of his own mouth. He strained to rise higher, to get to the very tip of his toes so he could push even further into Cas, but his calves protested. His hands moved from Cas’s silky hair to his shoulders, giving him purchase to press his lips harder into Cas’s.

Hands pressed into his shoulders and he knew Cas was about to pull away. He chased Cas’s lips with his, practically begging for them to continue, but not only was Cas bigger than him, he was stronger too. Cas finally pulled away, his lips slick and red.

He stared at Dean, lips parted and eyes wide. “I still need to get the table to Gabriel…”

He nodded and took a step away, putting some much-needed space between them. “Yeah. Go, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The angel’s eyes lit up and a wide smile graced his face. “Yes. For our date.”

Dean’s smile mirrored his. “Yeah. Our date.”

Cas nodded and left in a sweep of his cloak, the door closing on its own behind him. Dean let out a huff of amusement, and then another. Soon, he was full-on laughing. When he finally had himself under control, he forced himself to go to his room. Undressed and in bed, he allowed himself one more smile of satisfaction and then used his military training to relax his body to sleep. He had people to see and things to do, one of which was bothering Charlie for more games. For the first time in a while, he found himself looking forward to having a big day ahead of him.

He had a date to plan, after all.


End file.
